Fresh Blood
by ItalianDancer1275
Summary: You get the news that Gordon Walker is finally dead. What new things do we find out about your past with him? Side note- I am extremely proud of the direction I chose to go with this one. True, there's no mention of Winchesters, but we learn a bit about your history with Ellen and Jo. Please, please give it a try and let me know what you think! Y/N Your name Y/N/N Your nickname
1. Fixation

Fixation

November 15th, 2007: Age 22

You were all set and ready to finally get a small vacation and gamble away your "winnings" from Bela, but nope, no she had to go and pull a grand theft auto on your favorite, most expensive item. This indiscretion would not do. The second you saw it missing, your vacation plans were off. You pushed past Sam and Dean and grabbed your bag. Practically charging to the front door, you slammed it open as Dean yelled behind you. "So no Reno?" You slammed it shut behind you. "Nope." You were on this now.

It took you substantially less time to get back to Bobby's than it did coming out. You got out of your Jeep and the tension in the air around you was palpable. Bobby must have had a radar for your mood, as he came out of the garage, wiping the grease off of his hands. "What's got your panties in a wad?" You decided to let that one slide considering he was unaware of the _actual_ undergarment crisis. "I'm gonna kill her." You trudged inside and threw your duffel on the couch. "Who, Bela? What'd she do now?" You wasted no time digging through your duffel and fishing out your hand wraps. "Crossed the line. You know my favorite bra? Gone. Probably sold to so perv online." Bobby practically snorted and you glared at him. Reaching in the closet, you dead lifted the punching bag and hung it in the hallway. After you moved back in, it was quickly realized that Bobby was severely lacking in the training equipment department. So you took it upon yourself to do a little online shopping. Even Lara Croft would be impressed with the upgrades. "Okay one, don't mention those female things in front of me, I practically raised ya, it's just weird and two what's the big deal? Buy another one." You had begun training, sending right and left hooks into the sand-filled leather. But after Bobby's comment you stopped and stared at him. "It's not about just buying a new one Bobby, that one had sentimental value. You're telling me that you don't remember that day? It was our first outing when I moved in!"

"I do, but I'm asking why you would want to. It wasn't exactly a nice experience for either one of us." You looked down and fiddled with your hands, realizing just why you were so upset and why you cherished that memory so much. You turned and began to walk towards the stairs. "You're right, forget it." Bobby followed you. "Y/N/N, I'm serious. Why would you wanna remember something like that?" You turned to him. "It…it was the first time I've been shopping with anyone I considered a father. (You shrugged, averting Bobby's eyes) Daddy issues right?" Bobby's face fell, sympathy washing over it. There was a reason you didn't tell people things. Bobby, of course, tended to be the exception, but sometimes even he couldn't hide the pity you hated. "Look, you don't need some bra to know that I ain't going anywhere. Your daddy was a jackass, but I ain't him. If it means that much to ya, then I guess we can go again." You smiled and rolled your eyes. "Don't worry I won't put you through that—as long as you don't mention this conversation to the boys. It's better if they think I don't have feelings." Bobby laughed. "Atta girl. Now, still planning on killing Bela?" You thought for a second. "Nah, but I'm kind of in the training mood now. Think I'll go do some pull-ups."

"Well, try to take it easy Sarah Conner. Don't stab anyone in the knee with a pen." You rolled your eyes, but then a realization hit you. "Crap! I should make some calls first. I may or may not have put out a hit on Bela to all of our contacts." Bobby just stared as you passed him to retrieve your phone from your bag.


	2. Tags

Tags

November 15th, 2007: Age 22

"Right. See ya soon." Bobby hung up the phone as you lounged on the couch watching T2. _What?_ The Sarah Conner reference put you in the mood. Bobby walked into the living room with an odd look on his face. You quickly paused the movie. "What's up?" He sat down next to you. "Gordon Walker's dead." Every muscle in your body tensed hearing the name. "You know him?" You stared blankly ahead. "Yup."

"Look I don't know if he was your friend or something, but he did a real number to Sam and—"

"He's better off in the ground." With that you stood and walked to the bathroom. You placed your hands on the counter to steady your shaking body. You looked down at your left arm to the scar that ran along the inside of your forearm. Bringing the right hand over to run your fingers over it, you remembered.

December 4th, 2004: Age 19

It was your first week in California. Your heart raced as you were looking into different towns to find a case in. It was the first time since your mom and sister that you had this kind of freedom. No one to report to, no one sending you to a certain place, just you, your jeep, and your gun traveling the open road. You had been hunting for a good five years now (minus the year and a half you took off to go to U of A), and felt you had a steady foundation to go on. However, even _with_ Bobby as a teacher, you were under no pretenses. You were going to start small and work from there. If you were taught one thing, it was to never overestimate yourself. That's why you felt that a string of animal attacks in a small town called Murrieta was a perfect match. A few vamps wouldn't be too hard to take out. You took out a map and found that from your current location of San Diego, it would be a straight shot to Murrieta if you just took the 15 North. Game on.

It took around an hour and fifteen minutes to finally arrive at the Comfort Inn and Suites. Wasting no time, you set up the room. It felt familiar as you placed your gun under your pillow and hung up all your flannels. You almost went to grab your phone to call Bobby and check in when you remembered. You were on your own here. Bobby still thought you were at the U of A and you really would prefer to keep it that way. You double-checked that your GPS was off and made a decision. Hopping in your jeep, you opened the glove compartment and dropped the phone in there, vowing to get a new one with a new number as soon as possible.

You were walking back to your motel room when a deep voice caused you to stop. "Excuse me, miss?" You turned and stared at the man who interrupted your step. African American, approximately six feet tall, fairly athletic, but with facial features that were oddly familiar looking. "Can I help you?"

"I'm sorry, but those tags you're wearing. I think they belonged to my father." You instinctually brought your hand up to cover the metal rectangles that dangled around your neck. You narrowed your eyes. "I highly doubt that. Unless you could read them from across the parking lot, they'd be indistinguishable. Have a nice day." You went to take another step. "My name is Gordon Walker. I know those are my fathers because when I was fourteen years old I snapped the chain and used an old fishhook to reassemble it. Right in that exact spot." Your eyes slowly followed where he pointed to a chink in the metal where a fishhook was indeed holding it together. You slowly lifted your head to look Gordon Walker in the eye. "You're Beth's older brother." His face went blank at hearing her name. "I think we'd better talk in private."

You'd agreed to meet Gordon at his stakeout to discuss a few things. You were still weary of him, but considering how close you and his sister had been, you'd decided to trust him. Still, your fingers itched to dial Bobby or even Ellen just to give them your location should things go sideways. However, you balled your hand in a fist and decided against it. There was no way you were jeopardizing your newfound freedom within the first week of having it. You focused on the road and drove the rest of the half hour to meet Gordon Walker.

Gordon let you in and you looked around. It was your typical hunter's setup; fairly messy, photos and case files pinned to the wall, and a closet full of flannels. Seemed like you and him were working the same case. You pointed to the article and turned to look at Gordon for an explanation. "Already took care of it. Two bloodsuckers stationed at the abandoned mill." You raised your eyebrows and nodded, impressed. He continued, "So, you knew Beth?" He sat at the kitchenette table, an unthreatening action. With his legs splayed out and elbow resting on the wood, he seemed very open and relaxed, leading to you believe this probably wasn't a trap. You relaxed your own shoulders…slightly. You then joined him and sighed. "Uh, yeah. We met at Camp. 1996 I think." He 'hmmd' as he took in the information. Bringing his gaze back to the tags around your neck, he spoke. "May I?"

"Of course." You took the chain off and let him examine them. He looked from the tags back to you. "How did you get these?" You shifted uncomfortably. "Well, it's kind of a long story."

"Well I just finished killing a vamp nest. I got time." You exhaled and reminisced.


	3. Promises

Promises

August 1996: Age 11

You stared out the window of the ugly yellow school bus that was taking you to the last place on earth you wanted to be. Indiana was having one of its famous summer storms, and quite honestly, it fit your mood. You mouthed off just a little bit to your mother and it got your butt sent away to camp for a month. It sucked.

The ride was about an hour and you had to suffer through the same four group songs with overly enthused counselors. Finally, you arrived and trudged through the mud, eyeing the other kids getting off the buses around you. They all had the same excited gleam in their eyes that honestly made you a bit sick. You rolled your eyes and stood in line for cabin assignment. A perky blonde college student smiled up at you as you gave her your name. She scanned her list and highlighted a horizontal line, indicating that you were in cabin L with three other girls around your age. You thanked her and made a B-line to drop your stuff off and hopefully get a few minutes alone before your roommates showed up.

You had no such luck, as two of the three girls had already set up shop. You smiled curtly at a friendly red head and a spunky blonde, who had taken one lower and one upper bunk, leaving you to quickly grab the last upper one. The red head spoke, "Hi there! I'm Eve and this is Arianna." Nodding at them, you answered, "Y/N." The blonde smiled back. "Are you from around here? Eve and I grew up together just down the road." You hated forced small talk, especially when you were in such a fowl mood. "Nope. I'm about an hour south of here…so no chance of escape." The girls awkwardly looked at each other and returned to what they were doing. You were just assembling a few of your things when the door slammed open. "Hi! I'm Beth Walker, I'm twelve, and I can't wait for all of us to be pen pals!" You stared at the tall girl who had made quite the dramatic entrance. _Kill me now._ She, of course, set her bag on the bed directly beneath yours, continuing to gab while she unpacked her things. Ten minutes had passed and she hadn't even paused to take a breath. Eve and Arianna were hanging onto every word she said. Finally, a siren sounded outside of camp, saving you from the ongoing drawl of this perky girl.

The four of you exited your cabin to line up in front of the spunky college student who had checked you in, along with some of her friends who probably just wanted to pad their resumes. After listening to their spiel about how this was going to be the best month ever and all mandatory emergency information, they gave each cabin a task. The residents had to work together to find several places around the campsite and be the first to meet one of the counselors in the final place. You weren't particularly invested in winning the dollar store trophy, but dammit if you weren't competitive. The counselors blew the starting whistles and your cabin huddled up with the list. A Band-Aid, a book, a soccer ball, and a key were the things handed to each of you, the key ending up in your hand. You all turned the objects over to find numbers taped to each. The 1 belonged to Eve and was taped under the book. The four of you at the same time said, "A library!" Running to the camp map, you all rushed to the fourth building on the left and up the stairs. Seeing a brunette college student, Eve handed her the book and she smiled. "Eve, this is your domain, pick any book and it's yours." Her face lit up and you immediately pinned her as the bookworm. _Oh good, a competition to get to know your cabin mates._ Next up was Arianna with the soccer ball, leading you all to the soccer field around the back. _The Jock._ You turned to face Beth holding the Band-Aid and you all thought to yourselves. You actually saw the light bulb illuminate in Beth's mind when she shouted, "The nurse's office!" This one stumped you. The germophobe? No, she had no problem running through the soccer field and getting a bit dirty. An activity that you (though you didn't care to admit it) enjoyed as well. The four of you made your way to the office, Eve and Arianna pulling ahead. You turned to Beth. "So you collect Band-Aids?" She giggled. "No, no it's nothing like that. I like nursing." You gave her a look. "We're eleven. No one our age actually wants to be a nurse." She laughed again. "Technically, I'm twelve. But seriously, I do. My dad isn't around so it's just me, my brother, and my mom. She's a nurse, and my hero. Sometimes she lets me come with her to the hospital and it's my absolute favorite thing. So yea, I'm gonna be a nurse." You smiled and looked down, glancing up only when Beth brought her hand up to cradle a chain around her neck. Your blood went cold when you saw the familiar metal rectangles and quickly averted your eyes. Beth apparently noticed. "You an army brat too?" You looked up at her. "That obvious, huh?" She smiled and grabbed your hand and you let her, though your instinct was to pull away. "I saw you eye my tags. And not for nothing, but that look usually means one thing. When did you lose him?" You decided to pull your hand away then, "Four years ago, though he just deployed again last year." She tilted her head in confusion and you clarified, "He's a bastard who would rather disappear in the middle of the night than keep a promise to his kid." She seemed uncomfortable with your language, but you had heard your grandpa use the same phrase when he argued with your mom about the subject. Beth became silent. It was then that your group finally arrived at the nurse's office and she was shown around, though she kept glancing your way. It made you plain uncomfortable and you instantly regretted sharing. Once Beth was satisfied with the tour, it was up to you with the key. Honestly, the four of you were stumped, until the nurse coughed briefly and nodded her head at a nearby sign. _The KEY to friendship is this way._ Unconsciously, you grabbed Beth's hand and led the group to the locked door at the end of the hall. Sliding the key in, you got an immense amount of joy feeling each mechanism unlock with the object. You creaked open the door to reveal nothing other than a dance studio, a college counselor standing in the middle holding the sad-looking prize. "Congrats Cabin L! You made it to the end of the line! Y/N, this room is especially for you. A little birdy told me you enjoyed dancing quite a bit, and we wanted you to enjoy your month here. Feel free to use this room during any down time we may have. Now ladies, you have found all of your designated areas and there's still about a half hour left. Use this time to get to know each other. See you all tomorrow morning for the festivities!" She walked out and Eve and Arianna began conversing among themselves, having no interest in including the other two cabin mates.

"What promise did he break?" Beth's blunt statement took you by surprise. You responded, unsure. "Uh, it's kinda personal." She snorted. "Look, we're gonna be together all month. I already know we're gonna be besties, but I have no issue annoying you to that point either. So it's up to you. Share now, or forever live with my constant pestering. Ask my brother, I'm very persuasive." Wow, this girl was weird….but also slightly growing on you. You sighed. "He uh, promised me he wouldn't leave again unless he had to. That we would spend the summer together and…be a real family again. He was gone before I woke up the next morning."

"Well, how do you know he had a choice in the matter?"

"I did some digging. We have a family friend that's good at finding things out. Kind of a surly, old, shut in, and, well, turns out dear old dad was taken off the deployment list until further notice. He actually called and asked to go. Well, you probably guessed that I didn't even want his tags after that. Not that he even offered." She brought her hand up and squeezed the chain around her neck once more. A light tap on Beth's shoulder brought you both out of the conversation. It was a counselor, and she looked pretty upset. "Beth sweetie, I'm so sorry but we just got a call from your mom. I'm afraid you're gonna have to pack your things, she needs you home." The two of you shared a look and followed the counselor to the cabin. She waited outside to give you some privacy. You watched Beth pack in silence. It was your turn to be blunt. "You think it's something serious?" She looked up at you from placing a few shirts in a duffel bag. "Nah, my brother just gets in weird moods sometimes and I'm the only one who can really deal with him. Ten bucks says he pissed mom off and she's just panicking." You nodded and twiddled your thumbs. "Sooo, listen, I've never really told anyone about that part of my dad that wasn't a close friend or already dead. I'm—"

"Guess we're just gonna have to be pen pals then."

"Wait, what…?"

"I already told you Weston, whether you like it or not, we're gonna become best friends, so either write your address down or I'll just have to get it out of one of the counselors." You laughed and grabbed a pen off the desk, writing your actual address down for this acquaintance. She grabbed the paper and slipped something else in your hand. Looking down, you saw her tags. "Oh no, I can't. You just met me, how—"

"Just take them, okay? My dad and I had a great relationship and I'd give anything to see him again. But I don't need some necklace to remind me of that. So I want you to have it. To remind you that not everyone is like your dad. I, Beth Walker, promise on that pair of old military tags that I will keep in touch and write you every month 'till the day I die." She held out her pinky and you, hesitantly, wrapped yours around it. She pulled you in for a hug. "Take them on adventures and write to me about it." You squeezed her, "It's a promise." And thus, an extremely weird friendship was born.

Beth never came back to camp, but her first letter arrived on the seventh of September and every seventh of the month after that. You always responded and the two of you kept your promise…until the day she died.


	4. August

August

December 4th, 2004: Age 19

Gordon chuckled slightly. "Yup, sounds like her. Perky and pushy. Well at least now I know she didn't actually lose the tags on a hike." You smiled in response and he placed the chain back on the table, bringing up the awkward question. "So…when did you two uh…"

"Lose touch? We didn't. Wrote to each other every seventh of the month until she, uh..." You noticed the muscles in Gordon's jaw tighten. You decided to reassure him. "I did look for her, just to let you know. Even asked my father to contact his military connections. Doubt he ever did, but it was before I knew about the life so it was the best I could do."

"I appreciate that." He looked down, "I did everything I could to save her. But it was useless against those fanged-freaks."

"Bobby mentioned it was a vamp attack. Did a bit of digging once I moved in with him. It just, never sat well with me. I can't imagine what it was like for you. I'm so sorry."

"Yea, me too. You know I gave her a hunter's funeral? Nearly caught the entire field on fire from being a rookie, and the August heat didn't exactly help." You smiled at his anecdote, but only for a second as something occurred to you. "August?"

"Yep. Worst month of my life." You were careful in your response. You knew for a fact that Beth had sent her last letter in September. She wrote about some huge life change she went through and how she wanted to visit to show you. Obviously, that visit never happened. Regardless, Gordon was lying. You tilted your head in feigned sympathy. "That's just awful. But it's nice to finally put a date to it. Gives me some closure."

"Well I'm glad one of us can get some. She's the reason I'm still a hunter. I feel like I can't do her justice until every bloodsucker is wiped off the map."

"Sounds like a pretty big task."

"True, but it's doable. With help, that is. You mentioned earlier that you lived with Bobby Singer. He's got quite the reputation. If I'm correct in assuming he trained you, you must be a damn good hunter. Could use that to hit a nest up by the Ortega. What do you say?"

"I'll get back to you on that. Trying to start small and work my way up." At this point, you had gone into your phone settings and set off your ringer, the song filling the room. "Excuse me, I really need to take this." He nodded and gestured to the front door. You closed it behind you as you hit speed dial two. After three rings, Ellen answered. "Harvell's."

"Ellen? It's Y/N. I—"

"Y/N? It's so good to hear from you sweetie! How's Arizona? I was just telling Ash here that you decided on the criminal justice major and—"

"Ellen, I'm sorry I really don't have time. Listen, don't say anything to Bobby but I'm in California. Small town called Murrieta. What can you tell me about Gordon Walker?"

"Excuse me!? I don't even know where to start with you!"

"Ellen! Quickly, Gordon Walker! You can yell at me later." You could hear the mom in her voice wanting to escape. But she bit her tongue. "Look, stay the hell away from Gordon Walker. He's not good people and I don't think his head was screwed on just right."

"That may be an issue considering I'm right outside his motel room."

"What!? Y/N you get your butt in your car and you leave right now, you hear me?"

"I can't. I can't let him know that anything is up. Look, I'll just say I have to head out and politely get the hell out of here."

"You call me the second you're in the clear, you hear me kid? And keep driving too, your butt better be on a Harvell stool in three days!"

"Yes ma'am."

"Alright. Be safe. Be smart. I love you."

"I love you too. Bye." You flipped your phone closed and swallowed your panic before re-entering the room. You felt it immediately. The atmosphere had changed and you no longer felt safe. You held your phone up and smiled. "Bobby. Just checking in. He worries." Gordon nodded his head, pacing the room. He used slow footsteps and a single hand covered his mouth, making his expression unreadable. It made you uneasy so you broke the silence. "So listen, it's getting pretty late. I'm gonna get some shut-eye and we can talk Ortega tomorrow?" He nodded again, using his thumb to rub up and down his jaw line. "Sure thing." You turned (to the best of your abilities) at a normal pace and started walking back to the front door. Your arm outstretched to open it and you slowly turned the knob, exhaling that you made it this far.

"Y/N." You froze, turning only your head in Gordon's direction. "Aren't you forgetting something?" He gestured toward the table where Beth's dog tags laid residence. You made eye contact with him once more, seeing the coldness behind his eyes. Was it always there? You chuckled. "Right." Letting go of the doorknob, you made your way to the table and placed your hand on the metal object, putting it around your neck. You kept Gordon in your peripheral as you turned your back once more to exit the room. Once again you reached the doorknob and twisted it slowly.

"So was it John or Ellen?" You froze. Thinking quickly (and stupidly) you pulled the door open, but Gordon was faster, slamming it shut with a single hand. He grabbed your shoulder and when you tried to maneuver your way out of his hold, he anticipated your every movement, grabbing your left hand. Shoving it (and you) against the nearest wall, you struggled and kicked at him, landing one good blow to his shin. In response, he reached to his right to grab a large kitchen knife off the counter and without hesitation, pinned you to the stucco, straight through your left forearm. You went to scream in pain but his other hand covered your mouth. Your breathing hastened and you began sweating as you saw the blood drip down your elbow and onto the linoleum below. "I'm only going to ask this one more time. Was it John or was it Ellen that figured it out?"

"Figured what out?" You managed to say in between his fingers. "Don't play stupid. You clearly came back with new information. Now tell me who told you." With that, he pulled the kitchen knife down slightly, sending a new wave of pain to every sensor in your body. He again tightened his grip on your mouth to muffle your scream. You began panting as he removed his hand. "Look, no one knows. I pieced it together myself."  
"You're lying."

"I swear! You mentioned you burned her in August. I got the last letter in September. Wasn't too hard putting things together after that. She got turned you ganked her yourself." He thought to himself for a moment. "Wasn't expecting it to hold onto any human ties. It was probably on the way to turn you too. Well, we learn from our mistakes right? I really am sorry to have to do this. You seem like a good kid. But loose ends and all that." He pulled the gun that was taped under the kitchen counter and aimed it at your head, cocking it with his thumb.

"Wait! You heard it yourself. I was on the phone with Ellen outside. She knows where I am and who I'm with. You can bet your ass she's going to tell Bobby, probably John too. Are you willing to bet that they won't hunt you down? You're a good hunter but with those three on your tail, you'd never kill another fang again. Let me go and I'll keep my mouth shut. We'll all leave you alone, I swear. I'll tell them nothing happened, that we talked about Beth and I left peacefully. You have my word." Gordon thought for a moment before lowering his weapon. "This is your warning kid. You open your mouth and I'll kill you and anyone you ever made contact with. Now go." He ripped the dog tags from your neck and pulled the knife directly out of your arm. You raced to the door; afraid he might just change his mind and shoot you in the back. As you opened it, he gave his parting remarks. "You're a smart kid Y/N, don't do anything stupid. I look forward to checking up on you." You slammed the door shut behind you and ran to your car, tears spilling over and blurring your vision.


	5. Lies and Lessons

Lies and Lessons

You drove all night, terrified to pull over. It wasn't until you hit Colorado that your body was threatening to give out. You pulled off the side of the highway and just sat there shaking. You had used a bandana to slow the bleeding of your arm, but the throbbing persisted, just as painful as the initial stab. You tried several times to get some sleep, but every time you closed your eyes you saw the same image. The barrel of Gordon's gun and the animalistic look in his eye.

You sat there in a cold sweat, your entire body vibrating. You continuously checked your rearview and side mirrors for any vehicle or person who resembled Gordon. You stayed this way for about an hour until _Thunderstruck_ startled you into alertness. You checked your phone to see that Ellen was calling, and that you had missed her five previous calls. You flipped the phone open and took a steadying breath.

"Hello?"

"Y/N?! What the hell, I have been calling you all night! Is everything okay are you okay?" You remembered the deal you made with Gordon. Your jaw shook, but you forced your breath to sound normal. "Ellen, hey, I'm so sorry I guess I'm just a bit rattled. I'm fine, I swear. Nothing happened, but my phone fell between my seats and I just now pulled over to find it. I'm in Colorado, should be to Harvell's by tomorrow." You heard her contemplate your explanation before accepting it. You said your goodbyes and hung up the phone. Finally exhaling with a shaky breath, you restarted your engine and continued your trip.

Six hours later you were pulling up to the Roadhouse, the sun just setting for the day. You turned the ignition off and looked down to your forearm. There was no way in hell that Ellen would believe that it was a coincidence that you hurt yourself right after meeting Gordon Walker. You saw the front door open and quickly cleaned the old blood from your arm. You had an idea, but it would suck. Ellen came racing out just as you opened your door. You spotted the object you needed about four steps away from you. You took three steps before pretending to trip and fall in the exact position for an old broken beer bottle to slice right through the fresh wound. You bit your lip to stifle the scream but it came anyway. The throbbing and stinging sensation that had just started to dull was once again ripped open, and you felt the familiar drip of blood run down your arm once more. It hurt like a bitch but at least Ellen's suspicions would be quieted. A necessary evil, even if you did catch Hepatitis.

"Y/N/N! You okay?" She ran to your side and helped you up, examining your severed flesh. "Dammit, I told Ash to clean up the mess out here! That's gonna need a few stitches. Come on in honey." Ellen wrapped her arm around you, and for the first time in the twenty hours since you left California, you felt safe.

You entered the Roadhouse breathing in its familiar scent. It was like you were sixteen all over again. After a few months living with Bobby, he decided you needed some strong female influences in your life, thus bringing you to meet Ellen. You cliqued immediately, though you couldn't say the same about Jo. Bobby and Ellen had high hopes for the two of you to become fast friends; she was only a few months younger than you. However, in order for friendship to occur, you needed to be able to take someone seriously. And you certainly did not take Jo seriously. Your initial impression told you everything you needed to know. She was impulsive. Immature. Your theory had only proved itself over the years. You had no issue with her wanting to be a hunter against her mother's wishes. A little rebellion was healthy. What annoyed you was her overestimation of herself. She was always quick on the trigger and finding cases that were way out of her league. Someone who constantly needed to be saved was not a hunter; she was a damsel in distress. Not to mention the person who did save her bacon was always called a chauvinist. It was just rude. There was no personal responsibility. Don't even get you started on her favorite cliché phrase, "I could of handled myself!" _Bleh!_ All in all, you were cordial, but equated Jo with a toddler.

The overall disdain must've been mutual, for as you passed through the bar threshold, she smiled, hiding a bit of contempt. You could understand it. You were actually taught, even encouraged to hunt. Everything she wanted out of life.

You shook the thought from your head as Ellen rinsed a clean bar rag and began to clean your arm. You hissed at the sting. "I know, I know. But we gotta sanitize it. Jo, honey, go grab me a needle and thread from the first aid kit." Jo left the room and you finally looked up to see Ellen's face, worry painted all over it. She took a second before pulling you in for a tight hug and kissing the top of your head. She pushed you away to look you in the eye again. Looking around to make sure the two of you were alone, she spoke. "What happened?" Your deal with Gordon played on repeat in your mind. "Nothing. I knew his sister when we were kids and we just talked about her. I made the call to you and left. Drove straight here." She sighed and cupped your cheek. "You really dodged a bullet. I'm glad you're safe. But don't think you're off the hook for lying to Bobby and me about college. I didn't tell him, but after my fourth call I was close. You rest up and give me your explanation in the morning."

"Yes ma'am." She kissed your forehead once more just as Jo re-entered the room. "Jo, honey, stitch up Y/N/N here wouldja? I need to make a few calls." Jo nodded and occupied the stool in front of you. She made the first incision before she spoke. "Screwed up a hunt?" You sighed. "Nope, broken beer bottle out front."

"Oh, so you're just clumsy."

"Sure." You didn't have the patience or the energy to play into one of Jo's petty arguments at the moment, and probably sensed it too, as she shut right up.

She finished the last knot and cut the string, putting a final bandage on top. "Thanks." You start walking to the spare bedroom. "Y/N wait! So I found this town in North Dakota. All signs lead to demon possessions. I was thinking—"

"Look Jo, not now okay? I'm exhausted and don't have the energy to walk you through it."

"Walk me through it? Who says I need to be walked through it?" You rolled your eyes and sighed. Now really wasn't time for this fight. But you slipped up and it was gonna happen anyway.

"Your history."

"Excuse me? Last I checked _I_ found this case and asked _you_ to be _my_ shotgun, not the other way around. Don't act all high and mighty. I'm just as good a hunter as you are!"

"The fact you feel the need to compare proves otherwise. You can put together a hell of a file; it's the execution that could use some improvement. I'm not trying to be a dick here; I'm _just_ trying to get some sleep. Can we drop this?"

"Sure. Forget I told you, I'll go myself."

"Look, do what you want Jo, but if you want my advice, stay in your own lane. Hunting isn't for everyone. You're gonna get yourself hurt kid." She stood dumbfounded as you walked away to get some shuteye. It was harsh, but your tolerance level wasn't exactly up to par at the moment. You'd apologize in the morning. For now, a pillow and a sleepless night were calling you.


	6. The Seventh of The Month

The Seventh of the Month

December 6th, 2004: Age 19

You awoke the next morning after a total of ten minutes of sleep. Between the pain and the nightmares, you were lucky to get that. You looked out front to see that Jo's car was still there, meaning your harsh remarks hadn't driven Jo to do the thing you really thought she was going to. You sighed in relief; glad you weren't going to have to set up a search and rescue. After brushing your teeth and rinsing your face, you figured it was time to apologize. You entered Jo's room to find she was showering down the hall. You figured you would wait her out and send Bobby a quick email on the house computer to at least prepare him for the call he was sure to get from Ellen later this week. You drove the mouse to the logout button on Jo's email when a ping and a name stopped you cold. Gordon Walker. Subject: RE: North Dakota. You didn't dare open it. You sat and stared at the screen for what felt like hours. Jo was in contact with him. You listened for a second to make sure the shower was still running before you ran back to Jo's room and practically threw her bedside drawer open. Ripping out the false bottom, you grabbed her journal and skimmed it, looking for that name. What you found ran your blood cold. " _I wish Gordon was around more... although who I am kidding, he's the LAST person my Mom would ever let me go out with!"_ The journal gave away everything. He used her as bait and she actually respected him for it. Even grew to care romantically for him. She knew the monster he was and still made excuses. Your head pounded as it tried to comprehend the rage and the fear. If there was a level of negative respect for someone, you had just hit it with Jo. As if on cue, she entered her room, surprised to see you on her bed. You stared intently at her.

"Why are you talking to Gordon Walker?"

"Y/N what the hell? That's my private journal! Give it back!" You slammed it shut and thrust it at her. You had seen enough anyway. "Answer the question Jo."

"It's none of your business." She clenched the journal to her chest and you saw what you feared. "Oh Jo…"

"What?"

"Don't tell me you're stupid enough to have feelings for him. He used you as bait!"

"You've never even met him! Don't listen to everything my mom tells you, she's just overprotective! And stay out of my business!"

"This isn't about privacy this is about safety."

"Well my safety is not your concern! I can take care of myself!"

 _And there it was._

You stood and walked towards the door, pausing to turn around. "Jo…please. Stay away from Gordon Walker." She lifted her arm in response, pointing for you to leave her room. You walked out shaking your head.

December 7th, 2004: Age 20

You awoke to a quiet household, managing a whole three hours of sleep the previous night. After performing the morning routine, you walked into the bar area only to have a minor heart attack. There was a group of hunters, Ellen, Ash, and Jo gathered around a table with a cake on it that read _Happy 20_ _th_ _Y/N!_ Your heart felt full as twenty candles were lit and your surrogate mother with a group of strangers sang (horribly and drunkenly) the traditional birthday song. You smiled and blew out your candles.

After mingling and receiving small gifts from Ellen and Ash you sat with a beer at the bar. A hand on your shoulder interrupted your reminiscing about the day. It was one of the strangers who happened to stop at Harvell's on the day of a party. "Hey, just wanted to say Happy Birthday. I'm gonna take off. Already paid my tab." You thanked him and nodded, expecting him to leave. He did just that, but not before placing a small rectangular piece of paper in front of you. You looked back to find him, but he was gone. Picking up the paper, you realized it was a post card. You checked the back to see where from…

 _Murrieta, California_

 _December 7_ _th_ _, 2004_

Y/N,

Happy Birthday!

I truly wish you many more.

Make sure to celebrate today.

P.S.

Warning Joanna,

Not a great idea…

G.W.

You felt your skin go cold and your heart stop. Every 'well-meaning' sentence seemed like a threat. You shoved the post card in your jacket and scanned the sea of people for a naïve blonde. Once located, you grabbed her arm and dragged her outside. "What the hell!?"

"What did you tell Gordon?"

"What?"

"What did you tell him!?"

"Ow Y/N! Jesus I just told him you freaked on me yesterday, what's the big deal?" You paused, both hands squeezing Jo's shoulders. Gordon had a man deliver the post card to you at the roadhouse. He had eyes everywhere. You immediately let go of Jo. "Nothing. Forget it." You walked back inside leaving Jo in the dust. It was closing time for the bar and Ellen and Ash were cleaning up. "You head onto bed hon', we got this. Happy birthday." You plastered a fake smile and said your goodnight. But you had no plans to sleep. You closed your door and instantly began packing. You made up your mind. From now on, you would think out every move you made, feel only what was necessary for the situation, and trust only those who earned it; maximum efficiency. It was the only way to survive with Gordon Walker on your tail. You waited until everyone had gone to bed and left a bull crap note on your bed explaining how you needed your independence but would still keep in touch. Once you heard Ash's harsh snores, you left, not having returned to the Roadhouse since.

November 15th, 2007: Age 22

Your right hand shook as it brushed over the scar left from Gordon's knife and the beer bottle. You looked at yourself in the mirror and repeated the phrase in your head. _Gordon Walker is dead._ You saw the face of a scared little girl look back at you and that pissed you off. Clenching your hand into a fist, you punched the mirror, cracking the glass and making your knuckles bleed. You threw open the bathroom door and marched up to your room. Finding the third floorboard from the south wall and lifting it, you revealed the 35 postcards from Murrieta, California. You lifted them and sifted through the stack, the G.W.s that once sent chills down your spine now seemed like small challenges. You squeezed the stack of postcards, grabbing a metal bucket and a pack of matches. Taking the items out back and dumping them into the bucket, you lit a single match and dropped it in, destroying nearly three years of utter misery. As the flames lifted, so did the burden of Gordon Walker. You were finally free…

 _Murrieta, California_

 _January 7_ _th_ _, 2005_

Y/N,

Still Watching.

 _Murrieta, California_

 _May 7_ _th_ _, 2005_

Y/N,

Another vamp off the map.

Good job.

 _Murrieta, California_

 _June 7_ _th_ _, 2006_

Y/N,

Close call with that last case don't we think?

 _Murrieta, California_

 _September 7_ _th_ _, 2006_

Y/N,

That was cold…

 _Murrieta, California_

 _October 7_ _th_ _, 2007_

Y/N,

Say hello to Dean Winchester for me.

 _Murrieta, California_

 _November 7_ _th_ _, 2007_

Y/N,

Congrats on the Gorgon


End file.
